Death By Duty

* This is about a scene from Steven Spielberg's "War of the Worlds" * ~ so ... that's it, then ... it's done - he's dead ... quiet ... finally ... I had to - the choice was not mine, damn it ... not mine at ALL ... he wouldn't stop yelling - cursing those ugly creatures, screaming at their dire dominance from his deepening delirium ... his fear of their tripods - the immense robotic structures that were now ravaging the earth and slaughtering humans like cattle, had overwhelmed his better senses ... I couldn't fault him that, in honesty, for even the biological beings that ran the machinery were terrifying - three limbs like scrawny branches, giant, empty eyes, buzz-saw teeth, and a horrid gait like the devil himself ... I don't blame his revulsion, but ... I have a daughter, a young lass that I love more than life, and I will do what I must to keep her safe, to get her home to her mom, to fulfill that oath ... and to think, even just days ago, I would never have dreamed I'd have to take another man's life, watch the light leave his eyes, feel the thrumming in his chest slow ... and stop ... yet now … NOW … I am a murderer, a cold-blooded killer ... but there was no other option - they would have heard his screaming, you see, and come down to our hiding place … they would have killed us all, and sprayed our blood out onto the countryside to feed their evil red weeds ... that's all there was now, as far as the eye could see - red, bloody, oily vegetation that covered everything and choked the life from all it touched, like the veins of evisceration turned inside-out, grisly, crimson worms … wriggling … it was ghastly, and I would not let us be a part of those tendrils of poison and horror ... I would NOT! so, I did it ... I covered my baby girl's eyes, told her to sing her favorite lullaby softly to herself, cupped her tiny hands over her ears ... and did what I HAD to ... quickly ... brutally … well ... we were safe now, but I wondered ... would there be absolution for such as I? was there divine grace for those who killed to stay alive and keep their wee ones safe? was there a place in heaven for we who are forced to trade one soul for another?? how would my little girl be affected in the years to come, by the crime of necessity that she knows I had to commit? how could she ever erase this nightmare from her tender dreaming? how could I reconcile such a ruthless act? and, if the day comes that finds this invasion a thing of the past, (and oh, I pray it will), how will I find peace in the night, contentment in my soul, and an honorable face ... in the mirror? Copyright © Gregory Richard Barden, October 25, 2022